Secretary Gwanggong's Survival Diary-Chapter 1: Prologue: The People Who Make the Crazy Top
When watching a drama, most people's eyes inevitably fall on the protagonist.
If a stunningly handsome alpha—who already has it all—falls in love with a beta whose beauty is so insane it transcends species, how could anyone not go wild?
He’s the protagonist, after all. He’s not only blessed with extraordinary ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) looks, but also handed every cool trait imaginable. Of course people go crazy for him. You kind of have to be that superior to even win the title of “main character” in the first place.
Of course, the setup that makes the protagonist shine is just as important.
He wakes up in the morning and quenches his thirst with desalinated deep-sea water extracted from 2,000 feet beneath the ocean near Hawaii. Then, he does his morning workout in a private training room that maintains a high-density oxygen saturation level. He skips breakfast. Before the sweat even dries, he heads into the bathroom. All his toiletries are poured into dark gray containers that hide their original French luxury brand logos. The sleek design of the bottles makes it obvious they’re high-end—there’s not a shred of doubt.
Black towels, with not a single trace of use, fill the drawers in perfectly aligned rows. Next to the sink, a dozen or so rolled-up hand towels sit in a bowl, waiting to be used after washing his hands. The towel he uses to dry off his body is casually tossed onto the sink, which is made from natural marble imported straight from Italy, and then he leaves the bathroom.
Wearing a black bathrobe, he drinks a freshly brewed cup of coffee while his secretary gives a briefing on today’s news and schedule—items that must be checked. Then he heads into the dressing room and picks one of the neatly arranged suits. The shoulders, sleeve length, forearms, waist, thighs, and hem hug his body with zero margin for error. The monotone suit is accented only by the color of his tie and tie pin.
They might all look the same, but each suit has a subtly different shade and fabric. Any suit or shirt that hangs in this dressing room has to be something special. Made by designer Stuart and tailor Richard, who do every single step by hand. Those names are practically brands themselves. If it’s not made by them, it doesn’t even deserve to hang here. We won’t even talk about the price.
After dressing, he chooses a watch from a selection that starts in the tens of millions of won and goes up into the hundreds of millions. From the dressing room, he steps into a pair of perfectly maintained shoes that still look brand new. He walks through the living room at a leisurely pace and heads out the front door.
A flawless, unchanging morning routine. A perfect commute.
Cool, right? A setting that makes the protagonist all the more perfect.
But let’s think about it for a second.
What if that protagonist was the one ordering the mineral water—which isn’t even officially imported into Korea—from an overseas online site?
What if he was the one refilling the body wash bottles?
What if he was the one doing laundry every day to keep all those jet-black towels fresh, folding them neatly, and lining them up in the drawer himself?
What if he took those luxury suits—tossed around like trash after one wear—and personally dropped them off at the dry cleaners?
What if, every night, he was the one polishing the shoes he wore that day, buffing them until they shined, wiping down the soles, and putting them away like new?
Who, exactly, is the one keeping the dark gray bedding, matched perfectly to the modern interior, neatly made like a hotel bed every single day?
The people who move like shadows, who can read the protagonist’s unspoken thoughts with just a glance.
The ones who have to put every object back in its place while he's out, quietly and completely.
The ones who handle all the tedious, dirty, and disgusting jobs in his place.
The people outside the frame, the ones who make the protagonist look like a protagonist.
The secretary.
And me—I’m the only member, and also the team leader, of Secretary Team 1.
...Fuck. When the hell am I supposed to clean all this shit up?
